She wore a simple black suit to their dinner at Lucas Carton that night, and it was a leisurely evening, and an extraordinary meal. He said he had talked to his children, and they were fine, but anxious for him to come home.
“So is Steve,” she said over coffee and brandy. “We've done a damn good job though.” She looked pleased, and happy for him. She loved what she did, and it had been fun traveling with him. She had enjoyed him more than most of her clients. They worked well together, and seemed to have a lot in common. They shared a number of views about the financial world, and she had always been excited about the high-tech companies she worked with. She had pretty much specialized in them for the past five years, and she knew her stuff, which had vastly impressed Callan. He'd been warned that he might have to do a lot of educating with the investment banking firm he chose. But she had actually educated him about the entire IPO process, and the investment banking world, and he admired her for it.
“So where to from here?” he asked her, as they sipped their brandy.
“The next public offering that comes my way. Same old game. And you? What are you going to do now for excitement?” she teased him. They had a great camaraderie between them. But she had a fairly good idea what he was going to do next. He had already talked to her about a whole new range of high-tech surgical products that he wanted to develop.
“Actually, I'm thinking about acquiring another company,” he confessed. “Give me a couple of years, and Dow Tech will be ten times the size it is today.” He was counting on it, and planning to work toward that.
“I'd love that,” she smiled. They chatted about it for a while, he hadn't mentioned new acquisitions to her before. He was full of good ideas, and he wanted to strive for new horizons. He wasn't a man who rested on his laurels, and she liked that about him. She wasn't one to do that either. They were both ambitious in a very similar fashion.
They were still talking about his ideas when they went back to the hotel, and sat in the bar for a little while. He had another brandy, but she only sat with him. She didn't want to have a headache when they flew to New York the next day.
And he looked comfortable and relaxed as they sat side by side in a booth and chatted till long after midnight. There was always so much to talk about and share and discuss. They agreed about a lot of things, but she also challenged him, and dared to disagree with him, which he enjoyed about her. They shared a world that few people either enjoyed or understood, and he said that to her with a look of admiration.
“Do you talk to Steve about all this?” he asked, curious. There had never been another woman he could talk to as he did her. It was very rare, in his field, and he knew that.
“Some of it. Not the high-tech world. But he's gotten pretty knowledgeable about investment banking and how it works. He impresses the hell out of people when he talks about IPOs and red herrings and green shoes. Some people think he's a banker instead of a doctor.” She smiled as she said it.
“I still think he's one hell of a lucky guy, and I hope he knows it.”
“He does,” she smiled again. “I'm lucky too. We're very different, but it works. Maybe because we've been together forever. Nearly half my life.” She'd been married to him for fourteen of her thirty-seven years, and that was pretty impressive.
“I was only married half that long, and I felt like I'd been sent to Vietnam and was being held hostage by the Viet Cong. In fact, I enjoyed my two years in Da Nang a lot more than being married to Charlotte.” Meredith could see why, but she still felt sorry for him.
“At least you got three wonderful children out of it.”
“I did. I'm grateful to her for that. Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe they're hers. She seems so removed from them, but that's how she wants it to be.” It didn't surprise Meredith, she hadn't looked like a very warm person when they'd run into her in Harry's Bar. Beautiful, and charming, but ice cold. It made Meredith question what Callan had been looking for when he fell in love with her, if only appearances had been important to him then. And perhaps they still were now.
They sat for a long time talking in the bar that night, holding on to the last moments they were going to share. The next day they were going back to their own lives again, their offices, the people who were important to them, his children in his case, and in hers Steve. But for this one moment, this last evening, they were celebrating their joint victory, and the common world they had so briefly shared.
Knowing that, it didn't surprise her when he touched her hand, and looked at her very gently. “I want you to know how important all of this has been to me. You did an incredible job, Meredith, and you've been a wonderful friend.”
“I've enjoyed working with you, Cal.” And traveling, and laughing, and talking about everything from IPOs to having kids. She had also learned a lot from him.
“I hope we have a chance to work together again sometime,” he said, looking wistful.
“Well, if you're serious about acquiring another company, I might be able to introduce you to some prospects. I'll keep an eye out for the right one for you.”
“That's almost reason enough to do it, in spite of Charlie's objections,” he said, with a smile, and a little while later, he walked her back to her room. He left her outside, as he always did, but this time, he lingered for just an instant, seemed about to say something, and then stopped as she opened her door with the heavy brass key. “Good night, Meredith,” he said simply, watching her. And then, without word or explanation, she leaned toward him, kissed his cheek, turned away, and took a step into her room.
“Good night, Cal,” she said softly, and then as he walked away, she quietly closed the door. She sat down in a chair for a long moment, looking out the window, and thinking about him. A lot had happened in the past few weeks. And she hoped that, whether or not they worked together again, he would always be her friend now.
Chapter 8
THE FLIGHT TO New York on Wednesday seemed to go too quickly. Cal slept, and Meredith worked. Her office had sent her a stack of faxes before they left Paris. And she was still working when they landed at JFK.
Cal woke up and looked at her with a sleepy smile, and then glanced out the window. The landing wheels had just hit the runway.
“What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn.
“Two o'clock local time. They're expecting us at four o'clock in my office.” It would take them that long, she knew, to get through customs, claim their bags, and take a limo into the city. “Everyone wants to congratulate you.”
“They should be congratulating you, Meredith. I hope they realize that.” There were times when he worried about her. He had seen very clearly that Paul Black didn't appreciate her, and Cal wondered if her other partners were any smarter.
“They do realize it,” she smiled, slipping her papers into her briefcase.
But when they met with the senior partners at four o'clock for the pricing meeting, everyone shook hands with Cal, and all the partners who had come congratulated him and each other. In the melee of people in the conference room, Meredith was all but forgotten. Paul Black made a point of telling her it had been a job well done, but most of the others were intent on talking to Callan and the other senior partners. She was used to it, and it didn't shock her. They were an old boys’ society of sorts, a secret fraternity that still had trouble acknowledging women. Knowing that, it had meant a great deal to her when she made partner. But as Callan had said during one of their many talks while they were traveling, there was some question as to how far she would go in the firm, and whether or not she had already hit the glass ceiling. For the moment, she still refused to believe she had.